Get published 50,000 years from now

You can send a personal message into an outerspace timecapsule that

will be launched by an Ariane 5 rocket into an orbit 1,800 km high, an altitude that will bring it back to Earth in 500 centuries, the same amount of time that has elapsed since early humans started to draw in cavern walls.

Get your kids and your grandparents to write notes:

Every person is invited to write a message addressed to the future inhabitants—the deadline is December 31, 2009. Messages can be posted via the project's website, or sent by postal mail. The organizers encourage everybody to gather messages from children, senior citizens and the illiterate so that every culture and demographic on Earth is represented. The satellite has enough capacity to carry a four-page message from each of the more than six billion inhabitants on the planet. Once the satellite is launched, the messages (with personal names removed) will be made freely available on the web.

I think I will either publish a Conan the Barbarian story, or a message from Kirk:

The Fire: A Poelg

Adventure, Captain. Adventure.

There was little else left on Earth.
There was the war to end tyranny.
Many considered that a noble effort.
Tyranny, sir?




Or an attempt to unify humanity?
Unify, sir?
Like a team of animals under one whip?
I know something of those years, remember.
It was a time of great dreams,
of great aspiration.


Under dozens of petty dictator ships.
One man would have ruled eventually,
as Rome under Caesar.




Richard the Lion-Hearted, Napoleon.
I don't know if you'll like living in our time.
Then I'll have to remold it to my liking.
Please don't.
Go.
Or stay.
But do it because it is what you wish to do.
Well?
I'll stay a little longer.
How many minutes do you graciously offer?
I only meant--
This grows tiresome.
You must now ask to stay.
I'd like to stay.
Please.
Open your heart.
Will you open your heart?
Yes.
I intend to take this ship.
Do you agree?
Oh, please don't ask me--
I need your help.
You won't harm anyone?
Now you question me?
No.
Will you assist me?
Oh, please, Khan, don't ask me--
Leave me then.
Go, I say.
No.
I promise.
I'll do anything you ask.
Name-- Khan, as we know him today.
Name-- Khan Noonien Singh.
From 1992 through 1996,
absolute ruler of more than a quarter of your world,
from Asia through the Middle East.
The last of the tyrants to be overthrown.
I must confess, gentlemen.
I've always held a sneaking admiration
for this one.
He was the best of the tyrants
and the most dangerous.
They were supermen in a sense.
Stronger, braver,
certainly more ambitious, more daring.
Gentlemen, this romanticism
about a ruthless dictator is--
Mr. Spock, we humans have a streak of barbarism in us.
Appalling, but there, nevertheless.
There were no massacres under his rule.
And as little freedom.
No wars until he was attacked.
Gentlemen.
Mr. Spock, you misunderstand us.
We can be against him and admire him
all at the same time.
Illogical.
Totally.
This is the captain.
Put a 24-hour security on Mr. Khan's quarters,
effective immediately.
Ahh.
I'm sorry, Captain.
I was, um,
Lost in thought.
My door--















Adventure, Captain. Adventure.